Simply, Sweetly
by Mizz Berlitz
Summary: Ashley, one of Seaview Middle School's resident mean girls, has fallen for the least likely guy ever. Oneshot with mild onesided AxO.


**A/N : SUPERFICIAL FLUFF! W00T! My love of crack pairings caused me to write this. I don't necessarily support this pairing, but my other story wouldn't upload so I couldn't submit it. Still working on that. -- I get them mixed up all the time, but I believe Amber is the African-American one and Ashley is the Asian-looking one. So forgive me if I'm wrong. None of my ideas in the story have a basis, just something silly I came up with. Hey, at least I'm not writing Amber x Lilly! Now _that_** **I'd have no idea of how to do. **

**Disclaimer : I don't own Hannah Montana. **

Simply, Sweetly

Ashley POV

I carefully smooth out the wrinkles in my lavender halter top, noticing with dismay one of the rhinestones has detached. Amber saw me examining it and gasped.

"Ash, you can't wear that!" I looked up at her, her chocolate brown eyes studying me. "And besides, lavender looks horrible with your complexion."

"Better than the time you wore that peach tank top!" I shoot back, and she brings a hand to her chest.

"What? You said it looked good!"

"So I lied." I lie.

"Whatever. I'm way prettier than you anyways, so you can borrow my turquoise shirt. It might just make you half as pretty as me!"

She extends her arm into her locker and draws it back, holding a hanger with a turquoise T-shirt hanging from it.

"Quick, go into the bathroom and change before someone sees you." She advises, and though I hate to take orders from her, I oblige, quickly making my way to the girls' room and ducking into a stall. I quickly change, twisting and turning in front of the mirror to admire the effect. As much as I dislike saying it, Amber is right, the turquoise top looks much nicer than the lavender one with the missing rhinestone.

I return to my locker and Amber nods approvingly as I stuff my lavender halter top in a corner.

"Much better." She says. "Jake Ryan will notice you for sure -- right after he notices me, of course."

"No way!" I say. "Jake likes me better!"

"In your dreams!" She says, and turns away huffily. Amber's my friend, but that doesn't mean she's very nice to me and vice-versa. Practically the only time we take sides is when we're talking to dorks like Miley Stewart and 'tag-along Truscott' as we've come to know the blonde girl who's always seen hanging around her.

"At least he'll notice us before he notices geeks like Becca!" I giggle airily, referring to Oliver's girlfriend. Oliver would be classified in the 'loser class' at our school. Though he is kind of cute -- My eyes widen at the thought. Oliver? Cute? Maybe Stewart's right, maybe my brain is lacking oxygen from all the hairspray I wore today! I look in the mirror and see my ebony tresses do look a little too stiff. Too much hairspray, for sure. At my Becca remark Amber turns back to me with a Cheshire-cat grin, and we touch index fingers with an "Ooooo!" before making our trademark sizzling sound.

A teacher passes by and frowns when she looks at Amber's jean miniskirt.

"Young lady, that skirt is much too short. Please obey the dress code, it looks horrible. I'm sure you have something else in your locker, I'd advise you to change."

"And jealousy was never pretty on a girl either," Amber whispers to me, and once again we cross index fingers, "Ooooo!", and make a sizzling sound.

I casually check the clock hanging above a nearby water fountain, homeroom would begin soon. The only reason Amber and I came to school early was so that we could have time to change in case of emergencies. It wasn't like we cared if we missed class -- but our parent's sure did. And no phone is torture for me and Amber; how else are we supposed to gab for hours? It's five minutes to eight, and as if on cue the doors at the school's entrance burst open and the before-school crowd rushes in.

I catch myself searching for Oliver and look away, applying a bit more black eyeliner. Who cares what Oaken thinks? It's not like I like him or anything -- grody. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jake come in, a crowd of girls trailing after him. Amber sees too and trots over, wasting no time at all flirting.

"Hey, Jake." She plasters on a fake smile at the mini fan-club following him. "Why don't you ditch these wallflowers and come hang with me?" I see Stewart standing a few feet away and glaring at Amber murderously. It's so obvious Stewart has a crush on Jake -- and so obvious that he does _not _feel the same way. Pff. She needs to get over him. Take a ride on the Ollie Trolley or something, that will bring her back down to earth and off of cloud nine.

To Amber's utter astonishment, Jake is immune to her charm and frowns.

"Hey Amber, chill. These girls are my friends."

"_Friends_?!?" Her jaw is slightly agape.

"Yeah, so back off."

"_Back off_?!?" She repeats in the same tone mixed with shock and disgust. One of the bolder girls in the crowd, a catty-eyed redhead, sneers.

"Is there an echo in here?" The redhead says, and Amber turns to her, fuming.

"Ugh! The only thing being copied in here is clothes! Can you say 'Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction?'" I suppress a laugh. The girls' shirt is way low, exposing a decent amount of cleavage, and it looks like it's going to fall off or something. Amber's comeback was lame as insults go, but all too true.

The girl just sniffs, sticking her nose up in the air haughtily. Who does she think she is…us? Jake folds his arms across his chest.

"Come on girls, lets go." And they obey, following him like puppies. Amber tries to hide her anger but fails, stomping over to me.

"How dare he treat me that way!" She shrieks. Class starts in three minutes so I start gathering my stuff absentmindedly, tucking my things into my pink backpack. "Hey-lo!" Amber continues, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "Are you even frickin' listening?!?" She's abnormally mad. Really mad. I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears but I decide not to comment on that little detail.

"Yeah, Jake is an idiot." I say, going along with her even though I don't entirely think so. Jake is such an ego-maniac -- and we're -- self-confident -- yeah, I could see why Amber was pissed. Some people are _way_ too obsessed with themselves. I glance at my locker mirror and apply some pink bubblegum-flavored lip-gloss before turning back to Amber. To my surprise, she doesn't look mad anymore. She just looks dreamy as she stares down the hall at Jake. Correction : Jake's butt.

"But he _is _a sexy idiot." Amber coos, and I shake my head, almost unable to believe that I was like her once, under Jake's spell. Actually, just yesterday I had gotten over him for a reason unbeknownst to me. I decide I'll try to sneak away before Amber starts ranting about Jake's complete and utter awesomeness, and still looking back at her to make sure she is staring safely at the zombie-slayer, I bump into someone.

I turn and I see in horror that Oliver Oaken is sprawled out on the floor, moaning "Owww…." Jeez, I didn't know I bumped him that hard. I feel weird…guilty, is that what it's called? Whatever. I feel…ugh, this is embarrassing…almost sorry for him. But I'm not about to say that.

"Watch where you're going!" I snap, knowing full well that I had run into him. He gets up and dusts himself off.

"What's your problem, Amber? You ran into me!"

"I'm _Ashley_, loser -" I feel bad calling him that, why? "-and if you were looking, you wouldn't have let me bump into you!"

So we stood there, glaring daggers at each other. I throw a glance over my shoulder to see that Amber hasn't heard our raised voices and is striding over in Jake's direction. Damn, the girl is persistent!

"Excuse me, are you going to apologize or not?" I say, turning back to stare at him once more. Hmm, he has nice eyes -- sort of this chocolate-brown color like the strapless midriff-exposing top I wore yesterday. They're almost mesmerizing -- and before I know it I'm under _Oliver's_ spell. Oliver, the so-called freak-show that I had mocked so many times before and had even put lipstick on in class.

Oliver Oaken, who had hit on me before with no effect. He had given up after a while. I was glad he did -- but now I wish he would again. Oh my gosh, I can't be thinking these things about Oliver! I'm even calling him by his first name! What would Amber say?!?

"No, I think _you_ should apologize!" He retorts, awakening me from my reverie. I fold my arms.

"No way, Oaken. You are the one who should be sorry -- you bumped into the prettiest girl in school." He gets this smug grin on his face.

"Still not sorry." He pauses, as if for dramatic effect. "And Amber's prettier." Oh. No. He. _Didn't._

"Excuse me?!?" I say, practically in hysterics. Gosh, why did I give a damn if stupid Oliver (there I go, calling him by his first name again!) thought Amber was prettier? Since when exactly did I care?

"Chillax, Ash, just kidding." Kidding? He better be. And Ash -- a pet name, maybe? Hopefully? Or maybe he was just too lazy to say my full name -- Jeez, only six letters -- so it must be a pet name! Resisting the urge to squeal in delight, I allow my expression to soften just a teensy bit. That one statement -- 'Chillax, Ash, just kidding' was so casual, so usual, like he was talking to one of his friends Stewart or Truscott. And if he was kidding -- then he must think I'm the prettiest girl in school! Or maybe just prettier then Amber. Ok, I need to buy a different brand of hairspray. I am _so_ overanalyzing things, and trust me, sweetie, that's not me _at all_.

"Y-you better be." Crap. _Crap!_ I stammered. Girls like me do _not_ stammer. Oliver has some kind of weird effect on me, and it's honestly making me kind of mad that it's out of my power to act somewhat regular around him. He raises his hands in mock-surrender and I feel myself blush slightly. Lovely. Stammering and blushing. What's wrong with me? And now Oliver's making fun of me. Not directly, but you can tell that behind that passive look of his he's laughing his head off.

With nothing else to say, I decide to leave. But apparently Oliver will have none of it.

"Hey, Ash?" He _better_ not call me 'Ash' again, because butterflies are attacking my stomach.

"What?" I say, narrowing my eyes and in a I-can't-believe-I'm-giving-you-the-time-of-day tone.

"Sorry." I freeze. Did Oliver Oaken actually -- apologize to me? This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. I'm dreaming. Yeah, that's it. Why else would I have worn a lavender halter-top with a missing rhinestone to school? Someone pinch me, before I decide I _love_ Oliver.

And then I did something completely and totally unexpected (not to mention out of character) -- I said, "I forgive you." WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!?!?!? Never, not once, have I said "I forgive you" to a single soul. Not to _anyone_. Not even to my little sister when she apologized for writing on the wall with my favorite red lipstick. And then just when I thought things couldn't get any more soap opera-ish, Oliver smiles at me.

It wasn't a "Hey, sexy" smile, it wasn't a dazzling, brilliant smile like Jake's, it wasn't even a smug or teasing smile. It was a genuine, heartfelt, friend-to-friend smile. He just kept smiling at me, simply, sweetly. And then he disappeared. Just like that. Melted into the crowd with just a minute until class began. I wonder what's running through his mind. Probably 'oh, man, Ashley finally cracked.'

But I knew what was going through _my_ mind -- I had a crush on Oliver. Simply, sweetly, I had fallen for him. The least likely guy in the universe. I stared after him until Amber sidled up to me, elbowing me.

"Come on, Ashley, we're going to be late. Not like I care or anything, but -"

"I'm coming." I murmured. And with one last lingering look in the direction Oliver had gone, I walked after her.

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**A/N : And…done! Hope you liked it, I actually had fun writing this one, xDDD. Don't worry if it didn't make sense and seemed OOC ... it totally and completely was. I just felt like writing something besides the usual Loliver or Moliver. **


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